The Turkey Saga
by Tronnit
Summary: Rabid Turkeys are destroying the world! Raymond, Johnny the Raven, Pierre the living french grapes and Myself fight them in England, North Canada and Turkey. Let the sanity begin!
1. The Screwed Up Start

The Turkey Saga

Episode 1: The Screwed Up Start

By Darnoc

Raymond and I were on an expedition when our plane crashed. The pilot was killed when a flying, singing banana sneaked into the cockpit and made him listen to Cher. The passengers died similarly except it was a performing barbershop trio of apples that polished them off. We couldn't hear them because we were watching Tron and had the headphones on full blast. If the plane didn't crash into the mountain, we could've found the answer to the ultimate question, what was the name of the bad guy in Tron? Damn…

Raymond and I had been living in the wilderness for months with no necessities apart from a Swiss army knife, a hunting rifle, a raft and a tent with sleeping bags. We lived of moose, rabbits and the near-by Taco Bell with no staff. Finally, we reached a hill above a village. Walking could take days but we had…a sled!

We shot down the hill with all our supplies on board. We were on the way to civilization.

We were no less than 1/8 down the hill when we heard a strange noise. It went "gobble, gobble, gobble!" I pondered, "What the bloody hell was that?" I thought. We turned and saw the most terrifying sight in the world. It was a huge flock of turkeys, but not the kind you eat for your Xmas din-dins, no, these were rabid turkeys.

Swarms of them headed down the hill towards us. "Prepare for battle" I shouted to Raymond. I brandished the rifle as a baseball bat and Raymond grabbed a frying pan. I smashed any turkey's head with the rifle butt that came near. Raymond did the same but also chucked some Molotov cocktails. Don't know where he got them from.

We took a rest after a lot of turkeys were crushed and flambėd. "Dude, I can't believe we did it!" laughed Raymond. I smiled and nodded. But a rumbling came from all side of the hill.

More rabid turkeys poured in from all sides. We…were…screwed. "Dude, use these" said Raymond. He handed me the following: a shotgun with 1000 shells, grenades and a combat-print bandana. Yet again, I failed to ask were he got them from. I tied the bandana around my fore head and screamed "I SHALL BE THE NEXT RAMBO!" I fired shells and tossed explosives for my life. No rabid turkey escaped my wrath, soon they all lay dead. Victory was mine.

We arrived at the village. Strangely though, it was in ruins! "Blinking Nora!" I screamed. There was another rabid turkey. But this one was freaking huge. "Dude," chuckled Raymond "check it out, Turkey Kong©!" "Can someone care to explain what the flip is happening?" I shouted. "IT IS THE APOCALYPSE," bellowed the giant turkey "TURKEYS ALL OVER THE WORLD ARE OVERTHROWING FARMERS AND KILLING ALL HUMANS BY ORDER OF THE TURKEY GOD!"

"The Turkey God?" wondered Raymond, whose stoned out brain couldn't handle this much information. We couldn't defeat this jumbo sized poultry. We were doomed to be pecked to death.

"Not zo fast, le turkey brain" shouted a voice with a French accent. "Caww" squawked a bird. We looked behind us only to see a beret wearing, living bunch of grapes with a claymore sword and a raven with a bazooka. "Dude, I gotta be stoned" sighed Raymond.

Next thing I knew, the grapes climbed into the bazooka. "On your command mon companion" he shouted to the raven. "Caww!" squawked the raven as he launched the grapes towards the turkey's deltoids. "Vive la France!" screamed the living grapes as he thrusted his claymore into the obese turkey's shoulder.

Once Turkey Kong©'s mouth was wide open screaming, I noticed the raven loading his bazooka. "Nevermore" quote the raven.

FWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH!

The missile was launched. It went down the turkey's mouth, traveled around the throat and blew up next to the heart. The large turkey exploded from the inside. A gizzard hit me in the eye and a liver smacked Raymond in the face and knocked him over. "Le guerre est almost finished!" chortled the French grapes. "Who or better yet, what are you?" I asked the grapes. "Oh but of course mon cheri, J'mappelle Pierre and mon companion s'appelle Johnny" answered the grapes. "Nevermore" quote the raven.

After we introduced ourselves we joined forces to fight the rabid turkeys and The Turkey God as the Turkey Carvers. We are also trying to find the name of the bad guy in Tron. If you know, send your answer to and I will send you something cool if you leave your e-mail address. Cheers


	2. Turkeys in England!

The Turkey Saga

Episode 2: Turkeys In England

By Darnoc

Well, if you bothered to read the 1st episode, you'd know all the characters. But if you're one of them pratts that skip pages to get to the part where someone dies then…oh bugger, forget that last bit. Anyway, the characters is myself, my stoner SK8R mate Raymond, A beret wearing, French speaking, living bunch of grapes called Pierre and the gun-toting raven named Johnny. Together we are The Turkey Carvers. We hunt rabid turkeys and The Turkey God. We also search for the answer to the ultimate question which is "What was the name of the bad guy in Tron?"

If you know the answer, please mail it to was the first day of Autumn (Fall to you yanks). I was enjoying the fact I sent Johnny to blow up my school. No dumb cop would suspect a 10" bird with a detonator walking away from a smoking crater. They would probably think it was Bush and that bloke that shot that lawyer, what's his face? Cheney? Well, let me get back to the story. I was in the Carver's base trying to fix the emergency alarm. I was sick of the "Totally Spies" theme tune, not that I watch that show it's just………SHUT UP! Still there were no rabid turkey attacks. Plenty of spastic chicken attacks, but that's not my problem, pal.

Pierre came back from grocery shopping. "Sacre Bleu," he complained "le grocer mistook moi for un of heez products." I gave him the suggestion of wearing a false moustache and glasses. He considered it. Raymond came back from his skateboarding. "Dude! I decapitated some dog with my deck! And it was cooool!" he laughed. Makes me glad we're part of the government. Just then Johnny came back from exploding the school. "Caww!" he squawked. Dammit, it's ticking me off not being able to understand a single goddamn word he's saying! ARRGHH! (Ahem) Anyway, I managed to change the alarm tone. It's now sounds like "Oops, I Did It Again" by Britney Spears.

Suddenly, the alarm activated. We rushed to the map to see which place was getting attacked. "Ohio" said Raymond. "No, dimwit, it's England" I told him. Let's lock and load.

I opened the garage door, waiting was a harrier jet. We called it The Flying Annihilator of Turkeys, FAT for short. Crap name? It was better than the old one, Flying Ultimate Chicken-related Killer. Yeah, FBI wasn't to hot about that acronym. I opened up the side compartments and stored Uzis, machine guns, grenades, machetes and assault rifles, Raymond put in some portable Gatling guns (which I didn't know we owned), Pierre loaded his claymore and Johnny strapped some automatic pistols to his belt. Then we headed off to England, not to be confused with Britain of the United Kingdom. We limeys hate that.

The flight sucked. No movie, no hot stewardess. Not even peanuts!

We arrived in England eventually. We decided to park on top of a tall building. Some lady wearing a crown was shouting at us "one is not amused!" I threw an egg at her and knocked her out. Who'd she think she was? The Queen of England? Ha.

London (the real London) was in a bloody mess. Turkeys were overrunning the place. I hooked up a stereo and played The Matrix theme. We also stole some stunts fro Neo and Trinity too. I lead the charge as we jumped into the fray. I fired bullets at any rabid turkey I saw. I also launched the occasional grenade too. Raymond was going fricking berserk and I made sure I wasn't in his range. Pierre was lobbing the heads off turkeys while screaming "for Louie XVI, vive la France, vive la France!" Don't know what the hell that was about. Johnny was doing back flips while shooting at turkeys; he was also doing slo-mo bullet time action. At one point I had to stop the fighting and replay The Matrix theme. Soon all foaming-at-the-mouth poultry lay shot, burnt, torn into little pieces and decapitated.

We walked around the destroyed city (sure, part of it was our fault but no need to get technical). "Bloody terrible, isn't it" sighed an English voice from behind. We turned sharply to see an old man in black. "Dude, I know this geezer," said Raymond "he was in that play called Mac…" Raymond was going to finish the sentence but the man clapped his hand around Raymond's mouth.

"Silence, we men of the theater dare not speak the true name of that Shakespearian tragedy, it brings bad luck" he said, somewhat angrily. "What dude?" said Raymond "By saying Macbeth?" And as soon as he did that a bolt of lightening struck the elderly man. "You bloody wanker! It's bad lick to call it Macbeth, also I…oh bollocks" sighed the man and after he finished his fit of rage, he was attacked by small army fish on bicycles wielding rolled up newspapers. "Pardon monsieur, but who are you?" asked Pierre. "Oh yes, of course, (ahem) I am Sir Earl McDonalds" he said. "Dudes! A real life super hero!" awed Raymond. Ian shook his head, "no, I'm a professional thespian." "Dude, you're a lesbian?" asked Raymond, whose brain cope with this. "NO YOU IGNORANT TOSSER! A THESPIAN! A BLOODY ACTOR!" screamed Sir Earl. "OKAY! WE GET IT, YOU'RE GAY! GOD!" I shouted. We were all getting miffed and POed. "Ok. Back to the plan, you need to come with me to MI6" asked Sir Earl; "Sorry dude, we don't swing that way" said Raymond curtly. Next thing I knew, there was a strange smell of chloroform hangin……….hey there little living mushroom.

I awoke several hours later feeling like I was shot repeatedly in the head by coconuts being fired out of a cannon. Raymond commented that he felt like he was a suitcase taking part in the Samsonite luggage test. Pierre said like he was being turned into wine (which is ironic really because he's a bunch of…ok, I'll shut up now). Johnny just squawked. Dammit, this is irritating me. "Had a good rest?" asked a familiar voice. It was Sir Earl. "Welcome to MI6" said an "unfamiliar" voice. I looked down and saw a peanut butter jelly sandwich. "Bloody chloroform lasts too fricking long" I mumbled. "This is PeeBeeJay," said Sir Earl "he works here at MI6." Well sure, if there was a bunch of French grapes, a flying singing banana, a barbershop trio of apples (see episode 1), and fish riding bicycles, then why can't a PB&J sandwich work as a spy. "Dude, what's the time?" asked Raymond. "I'll tell you," said PeeBeeJay "it's PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!" I tossed a knock out grenade at him before he continued. "I brought you here because The Turkey God is at Stonehenge" said Sir Earl.

"THE TURKEY GOD?" we all shouted. "Caww!" squawked Johnny. "DAMMIT JOHNNY, LEARN TO SPEAK!" I screamed at him. "Actually, we have a device that translates animal noises" Sir Earl mentioned. He came back later with a small, red, silk tie. He wrapped around Johnny and flicked a switch. "I do say, chaps, this tie is most comfortable, whatho old bean! I was flabbergasted (is this even a real word? I mean, look at it! C'mon!). "It also comes in Russian, Spanish, French and Nylon" said Sir Earl. We laughed for ages then remembered about The Turkey God.

We landed in the woods at Stonehenge. "Bloody awful flight that! No peanuts! Come off it!" complained Sir Earl. We approached the ancient alien landing site; there was a mysterious being in brown robes. He was muttering the words to Michael Jackson's Thriller. "Okay dude, quit the gay ceremony before we get medieval on yo ass" shouted Raymond. "Tee-hee, OW! Chamone, mutha fucka! Why should I?" he asked. "Monsieur merde-tête. We have le cranberry sauce!" shouted Pierre. "AHH!" The Turkey God screamed like a sissy girl. His hood fell of and revealed his face.

"Michael Jackson?" we all said at once. "Tee-hee, OW! No, I'm a clone of Michael Jackson! I am Emm-Jay, chamone mutha fucka!" said The Turkey God. "I do say chaps, our enemy is a children-loving pop star clone!" said Johnny. "What are you up to? Trying to find little boys, eh? Want a bit of bum-fun, eh?" I joked (I'm the funniest guy at school, I should do stand up). "NO! But thanks for the idea; I'm actually trying to resurrect the first British turkey! Tee-hee, OW!"

So we learnt the devious plan of the clone. He will be disappointed when he discovers turkeys don't live in the UK. Well, having enough of this fucked up day. I launched a missile at him. It was going to kill him, but one of his Vin Diesel robots got in the way. "OW! For real, chamone! I'm outta here! Billy-Jean is not my lover! Tee-hee!" he chuckled as he disappeared in a puff of feathers.

"Well, thanks to me, the UK is saved" gloated Sir Earl. "What the hell are you, talking about? I stopped Emm-Jay!" I shouted. "But I stood at the back and looked good" Sir Earl replied. Being pissed off with this day, I shot the over aged actor in the leg. Then The Turkey Carvers went home for some tea and crumpets.

END!

Next Episode: Turkeys in…Can You Guess? TURKEY!


	3. Turkeys in can you guess? Turkey!

The Turkey Saga

Episode 3: Turkeys in…Can You Guess? Turkey!

By Darnoc

No, I'm not telling you the story so far or the characters this time. READ…THE…BLOODY…STORIES!

It was business as usual. Rabid turkeys needed killing. We almost had trouble with an army outside Colorado led by Jack Black. Who knew, huh? It was the middle of winter. I was in the base changing the alarm tone again. I was sick of Britney Spears. It now sounds like Crazy Train by Ozzy Osbourne. Finally!

Raymond and Johnny were in the living room. Ever since Johnny got the Translator Tie from Sir Earl McDonalds, he has been reading poetry in his perfect, "Queen's English" accent. Raymond kept wiping tears from his eyes saying "beautiful dude, just…beautiful." Pierre came back and complained that yet again, the grocer mistook him for a renegade fruit product. "At leest, I got ma revengé, I cut off one of hees's fingurs!" he gloated as he held up a bleeding, severed "fingur." I kinda threw up in my mouth a little. Then the alarm went off.

The alarm now sounds like this…_"I'm going off the rails on a crazy train!"_

"Sacre bleu! Where are le turkeys now?" asked Pierre. "Okay dudes, I got a C- in geography, I know," said Raymond, staring at the map "they are in…………Claymationasia." "No old bean, the source of the rabid turkeys are located near Israel" said Johnny. "Ok, they're in...," I looked at the tiny print on the map "…Turkey?"

We stocked the FAT with all the weapons we could find, as well as the new weapon, the jet flamethrower. Anyone for Thanksgiving Dinner? I usually hate flying but this time, I added peanuts, an in-flight movie and a sexy stewardess.

We arrived in Ankara (capitol of Turkey for all you dead brainers) around 0800 hours (oh yeah, I'm an army linguistic too!). To blend in we wore clever disguises. No one would notice an Englishman, a stoner SK8R punk, a living bunch of French grapes and a speaking raven wearing fezzes.

There was a commotion rousing up in Market Street. We ran there wondering if it was the rabid turkeys. But it was actually a music contest. "Dude! We should enter" suggested Raymond, "oui monsieur" agreed Pierre, "sounds like a ripping good time indeed" chortled Johnny. "Fine," I sighed "but I chose the song and I get to change Johnny's voice." I picked him up and switched his tie translator from English to Australian.

We got on stage, I took bass, Raymond got the electric guitar, Pierre was the drummer and Johnny was vocals. The Turks were staring at us like they've never seen these instruments before. In fact, Raymond just got these out of no where. How the fuck did he get them? Anyhoo, we played simple go-up-and-uuuuppp, go-down-and-dooowwwwnnn chords several times and with the drum pounding in tune. Johnny, with his new Aussie accent, began to sing a song unpopular to women but gives certain men pride.

It was the classic AC/DC song of…

Big Balls

"Thank you Turkey! You've been great" Johnny announced. A stage boy handed me a note. It said the following:

_Dear honorable sirs._

_We regret to announce that any mention of the testicular region in this country leads to a slow, swift, painful, numb death. We shall cut off your gonads and dip you in a boiling vat of cream of mushroom soup._

_Have a nice death _

After reading the note, I looked at the crowd. They were brandishing knives. "Oh…Snap" I thought. "Gents…lets calmly head for the exit" I said. "Why dude, we have weapons" said Raymond.

One massacre later, we were looking around the area in search of rabid turkeys when a familiar face stepped in front of me. It was my old Turkish barber Sinan. "Long time no see mate" he said in his Turkish-English voice. "Sinan me old mucker! How've you been?" I asked shaking his hand.

"Same old stuff"

"Still avoiding the missus then?"

"Yee…yeah" he replied. We laughed for ages. "Anyway, down to business," he said, his tone getting sterner "I've got some…" "Sorry dude, I'm clean" interrupted Raymond. "Not drugs, you twat. I've got some info that The Turkey God is in the Caves of Turkey" said Sinan. "Crikey! Throw some shrimp on the barbie! Tie me kangaroo down, sport!" shouted Johnny. "Err…yeah…ummm, is that bird ok?" asked Sinan. "No, he was dropped on the head as a chick" I sadly reported. "To le Turkey Cave!" shouted Pierre.

Insert Batman cut scene tune here 

Upon entering the cave, we were ambushed by rabid turkeys and a Turkey Kong©. Raymond with the shotgun, Sinan with golden auto-pistols and I with the flamethrower made mince meat out of them darn white meat birds. Pierre and Johnny double-teamed the Turkey Kong© like they did in the first story. We pressed on. My flamethrower was out of flammable liquid. I switched to my secret weapon. A turkey baster.

The cave was dark. If wasn't for the light bulbs I wouldn't be able to see where I was going. We all got hungry, so we went to the McDonalds right next to us. Raymond complained he didn't get the Happy Meal toy he wanted. Twat head.

We soon reached a black room with a white door. Next to the door someone scraped WTF and an arrow pointing to the door. In front of the door was Emm-Jay, the clone of Michael Jackson and The Turkey God. "The game is up Wacko Jacko2" Sinan yelled. "Tee-hee, OW! Yo too late, for I will open up the source of all white meated birds. Kingdom Poultry, chamone!" he screamed.

We all charged at him but a Vin Diesel robot with 2 keyblades lunged at us. I dodged the tackle. "Dude, stop pedo-clone, we'll take care of Triple X here" said Raymond. "Good luck" I said. "C'mon Pacifier! Or ain't you the Riddick I thought you were!" Raymond taunted the robot. I tried to hit Emm-Jay but a force field protected him.

"Kingdom Poultry! Fill me with the power of turkeys!" demanded Emm-Jay. The doors opened and turkey feathers flew out. "You're wrong! I know now, without a doubt that Kingdom Poultry isn't turkeys, it's…………CHICKENS!" I shouted. Instead of turkey feathers flying out, flocks of chickens and roosters flew out and pecked every rabid turkey, Turkey Kong© and even The Turkey God to Death. The Vin Diesel robot self destructed and all was normal in the world. Our journey was over. Even though there were large amount of hyper emus running free, that's not my problem. My Turkey Carving days are over. But dammit, I still don't know the name of the bad guy in Tron!

The End.

Hoped you enjoyed this trilogy of insanity, please don't tell your friends.

Signed Darnoc


End file.
